Beauty and the Beast - Revised Edition
by Hewy Toonmore
Summary: This version of the tale as old as time has a male school teacher betrothed to a woman he has never known or met in hopes of helping his money stricken family. But that soon changes when he encounters a mysterious she-beast in a dark and mysterious castle while searching for his lost parents. Please read and review.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: I am rewriting this story with the help of Wrestlemaniac829 and Sharks Potter because I feel the original version, while good, could've been a lot better and maybe a little less rushed in some places. We hope you enjoy this new and improved version. :)**

Once upon a time, within a shining castle of a far away land, there lived a young princess: Beautiful, caring and kind. Blessed with a loving mother and father, who ruled the land as king and queen, she had everything her heart desired.

One fateful day, while out in the woods near her home, the Princess met a handsome young boy. Though he did not know her by name, nor did she know of his own, the two were instantly drawn to one another as if this chance encounter was more than what it seemed. And while their time spent together was short, the boy promised that he would come to meet her once more. Amazed with the boy's tenderness, treating her as no different from any person, the Princess herself was determined to find a gift to share with the boy.

It was on that very day, after many hours searching, when the Princess found a beautiful red rose growing from the ground. So intrigued with its beauty, she quickly plucked it from its place and rushed home to show her parents. Entranced by the rose, the king and queen arranged to have it placed within a glass cover, to protect the flower and keep it safe from harm.

Suddenly, a powerful Enchantress burst through the doors. Before the royal family, she angrily accused the princess of stealing a rose from her enchanted garden. The King tried to apologize for his daughter's mistake, but it was too late, for the Enchantress cursed the two rulers, imprisoning the King and Queen in an ageless state, sealed in stone. As for the Princess, as punishment for her actions, she transformed the young girl into a strange Beast and placed an even greater spell upon the castle and all who lived there.

Ashamed and frightened of her new form, the Beast concealed herself within her own castle. Before she departed, the Enchantress left a gift for the child: A magic mirror, her only window to the outside world. In turn, she revealed that the rose the Princess had plucked was truly an enchanted rose, one that would bloom until her twenty-first year. And so it was she left her with an ultimatum: If she could earn another man's love, and if that man would ask for her hand in marriage before the last petal fell, the spell would be broken. If not, she would be doomed to remain a Beast for all time.

Many years passed, and the stories of the Princess and the royal family were all but forgotten, faded into legend, which in turn became a myth. By then, she had fallen deep into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever love a Beast?


	2. Chapter 1

In a quiet little town in the French countryside, there lived a schoolmaster: Frederick La'Belle. Twenty-three years of age, with dark brown hair, the handsome young man was adored by his students, of whom he loved in return. But deep inside his heart, Frederick was greatly upset for an upcoming wedding was soon approaching.

The young schoolmaster had been arranged to marry a wealthy girl from a well-known family within the village. And yet, neither had shared any previous connection until the arrangement was made. But he knew this marriage was necessary, for his family had become poor and desperately needed the money. Frederick just couldn't disappoint any of them.

* * *

One early afternoon, Frederick had completed the word 'Beauty' on the blackboard. For he was teaching his class to encourage them to uncover a hidden meaning within that one simple term.

"Alright, class," he said. "Who can tell me what beauty means?"

A young girl rose her hand, drawing the schoolmaster's attention.

"Ah yes, you in the back. Care to tell me?

"Beauty is the fact that someone is very pretty?" The girl inquired.

Frederick snaps his fingers, standing in front of the first row of students.

"Very good, but wrong! Beauty is not fact, but merely a matter of opinion."

To prove his point, Frederick approached the girl who answered his question.

"Take Jill for example. Does anyone here think she's pretty?"

A few students shook their heads, the schoolmaster could only smile at this.

"No? Well, I think she's very pretty."

"She has freckles!" A boy shouted.

Frederick turned toward to where the boy himself sat, as far in the back as possible. But he knew better.

"Are you certain, Thomas? Is that why you assume she isn't pretty?"

The boy nodded quickly, but somehow he knew he was put on the spot. He could tell by the smile on the schoolmaster's face, as he walked back to the chalkboard.

"That is just the matter of your opinion," Frederick replied. "But remember the old saying: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It means that the term in general is whatever your eyes want it to be."

"I think you're pretty, Tommy," Jill said to the boy.

Jill's reply had the entire class giggling at the boy's expense. Tommy could only blush in embarrassment, as he turned his face to the desk. Frederick merely shook his head, when he heard the ringing of the bell outside the school.

"Well, that's it for today, class!" Frederick announced, clapping his hands.

The students stood from their seats, gathering their supplies and one-by-one each student left the building. As they did so, Frederick quickly cleaned the blackboard erasing the words he had written. Just then, he heard from one of his students, the girl called Jill.

"Mr. La'Belle, I'm sorry to hear about your mother," Jill said, as she approached the door.

Frederick La'Belle stood paused hearing those words, he hoped that would never come up. But being this was a small town, where everyone knew everybody, it would not take long for news to spread fast. Alone in his own classroom, Frederick let out a sigh even when it wasn't directed to anyone but himself. Jill approached the schoolmaster's desk, removing a small piece of paper from her bag and carefully laid it in the center.

"I made it for her this morning; I hope she gets better soon."

With the schoolmaster's back still turned and not hearing a reply, Jill turned back to the door to join her friends. Frederick turned around as the door closed behind Jill and lowered his eyes to his desk. Lifting the paper off, he unfolded the sides and saw that it was a homemade "Get Well" card, he could tell by how the words were written and how messy the material was. But Frederick had no need to complain, for this came right from the child's heart.

"Yeah… Me too."

* * *

With another school day over, Frederick La'Belle was the last person to leave the schoolhouse. Carrying his shoulder pack and wearing his dark-brown tricorn hat, La'Belle locked the door behind him before proceeding down the street back home.

As he strolled through town, the streets were busy as the townspeople proceeded with their daily routines. Several farmers entered town pushing cartloads filled with a variety of garden-plucked vegetables and fruit in hopes to have them sold before the first frost. Freshly baked pastries filled the streets as the baker unloads a tray of pies from the oven. As Frederick walked through town, several children passed by him chasing each other down the dirt road, barely dodging some horse-drawn carriages that drove past. The whole town was just as Frederick remembered: The same homes with the same architect, the same people he grew up with, and he had every path in sight nearly memorized.

Finally, after a lengthy walk, Frederick took a rest by the fountain located in the center of town. He sat by one side, where several ladies were washing their laundry from the other. Reaching into his pack, he lifted out a hardcover book and proceeded to do some reading. Just as he was getting into the book, a shadow was cast over La'Belle causing him to look up. There stood a tall, muscular man towering over him: Gaston Avenant, the brother of Gabriella, Frederick's wife-to-be.

"Hello, Freddy," Gaston spoke smugly.

"Bonjour, Gaston." Frederick replied, uninterested.

Just as Frederick returned his attention to his book, Gaston quickly snatched it from his grasp. Frederick turned back up more annoyed than before.

"Gaston, give me back my book."

"Now Freddy, we're gonna be brothers soon!" Gaston replied, skimming through the book. "What's it hurt if I sneak-a-peek."

Frederick quickly snatched the book from Gaston's grasp.

"Trust me: This isn't the right book for you."

Frederick turned to leave, when Gaston grabbed the schoolmaster by the collar and turned him around till they were face-to-face.

"I'd cool it if I were you, Freddy," Gaston warned. "We know your family needs our money, the whole town knows about it."

"Word sure gets around fast in this town."

"Just know this: You may be marrying my sister, but you do anything to tick me off I guarantee you'll never see a single cent or her. Got me?

"How is that different than my situation now?" Frederick asked.

"I'm serious, Freddy," Gaston continued. "It's no secret you don't like me… But frankly, "I" don't like "you" either. But our family is the most powerful in town and if you do "anything" to make my sister unhappy… We can do worse than you can imagine."

With that settled, Gaston released Frederick before proceeding to walk off. Frederick picks himself up, recovering his book and clearing it of any dust on the cover.

'What can that be?' Frederick thought. 'I wouldn't mind marrying Gabriella if I had met her first. That buffoon of a brother is just begging me to skip town right now. Sometimes I wonder why I bothered coming back.'

As Frederick continued his pace through town, muttering to no one but himself, it didn't take long before the town was far behind him. Climbing a hill, Frederick stopped to glance at his parent's farm located at the far end of town. Frederick let loose a sigh, finally pleased to be home.

"Just remember, Fred: It's for the good of the family. I will do this, I have to… Somehow."

* * *

In the living room of the La'Belle residence, of a little threadbare home, while sitting comfortably by the fire, Frederick's father was lounging on his chair reading a book. If he had stood, he was a rather tall man if not exceedingly lanky. Once a renowned Doctor in town, he had just reached his retirement age noted by his entirely white hair. As he read his book, with his reading glasses slightly drooped, he heard the opening of the door and turned to see his son pushing the door open.

"Hello, son," His father said. "How'd it go today?"

"The usual," Frederick replied. "The children are coming along nicely; they're all very bright. Their parents should be proud."

"Splendid," His father said, resuming his reading.

Frederick smiled watching him, knowing precisely where his own bookish habits came from. His father once talked about writing a book himself, mainly a comedy, but had never got around to doing so. Which only made Frederick ponder about his upcoming future.

'I wonder if Gabriella likes to read,' Frederick thought. 'Or what if she's mean and bossy like her brother?'

Frederick stopped his line of thinking in its tracks, the last thing he wanted was to be visibly upset in front of his parents. In particular, his own father, who he wouldn't bear to know what he's thinking.

'If only I could tell him, but how can I explain my 'incident' with Gaston?' Frederick pondered. 'Last thing I want to do is make my family worried, like they weren't doing the right thing about me. It would only make the coming marriage worse, especially for mom… Mother.'

Frederick poked his head around the corner into the kitchen. Normally his mom would be making supper at this hour, but there was no one there not even the assistants. Puzzled, Frederick made his way up the narrow stairs where the bedrooms were located. He looked into his parents' bedroom first, and there she was.

His mother, packing clothes into a satchel with the assistance of the family's valet, Jean-Luc. He was not particularly a handsome man, with a slight pointed nose, a goatee, and short brown hair that was slightly thinning, he had served the La'Belle household for a great many years as their most loyal servant. One would hardly imagine that he was only in his late thirties. The mother turned to see Frederick at the door.

"Hello, Fred," His mother said. "How was school?"

"Just fine, thank you. Mother, what on Earth are you doing? Are you going somewhere?"

"Oh, that's right, I forgot to tell you! Your father and I have been invited to Paris to reunite with our old friends from boarding school. They are very rich, and offered to help with plans for the wedding. You must be too stunned for words I'm sure."

"No… Just stunned," Frederick replied. "Mother, are you sure you should leave? You know, under the circumstances?"

"Stop worrying, son," His mother answered, waving off his concern. "Your old mother's not on her last legs yet. We'll only be gone a few days, and we'll have Jean-Luc with us. You just worry about keeping the farm going till we return. You can go long without us, can't you?"

"Sure, Mother," Fred answered.

Deep down, he still felt uncertain about this. The hired hands like Frederick, but he wasn't certain they respected him enough to obey his orders.

"Excellent," His mother said, oblivious to Frederick's discomfort. "We'll be leaving in an hour or so, and I've got much to do!"

As the mother turned back to her packing, Frederick turned down the hall to his own room. He turned to see that Jean-Luc had followed the boy.

"Go away, Jean-Luc. I have…papers to grade," Frederick said, sitting on his bedside.

"Really, Master Fred?" Jean-Luc asked, with a slight smile. "Then where are they?"

Fredrick sighed, Jean-Luc had been serving the house-hold since he was a stable boy and nothing could escape his notice.

"All right, you caught me. Come in and sit."

Jean-Luc shut the door, but did not take a seat. For a moment, neither said a word.

"Worried about the upcoming marriage, Master Fred?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Somewhat. I just wish I knew what she was like; I'd be more certain we'll be happy together after. Meeting her brother certainly doesn't help. To think I'll be spending holidays with that muscle-bound idiot for a brother-in-law."

"Hmm… Indeed," Jean-Luc agreed, sitting beside his young master. "This is a problem, indeed. Have you spoken to your mother and father about it?"

"No, I know my parents. They'd only worry, and they already have enough trouble on their minds right now."

"True," Jean-Luc nodded. "Well, the only thing I can offer is you must trust everything will work out for the best. Perhaps this Gaston chap is but only the black sheep of the family, and everyone else is perfectly nice."

Frederick couldn't imagine the valet believed this, but the gesture was much appreciated.

"Thanks, Jean-Luc. Why don't you go downstairs and see that Father has something to eat before setting out for Paris? I'll join you in a few minutes."

"Very good, Master Fred," Jean-Luc bowed.

Once Jean-Luc left the room, Frederick laid flat down on his bed to let out a sigh. No one seemed to understand his misgivings, his desire for more of life than having it tied down to marriage. But with so little money to support themselves, Frederick had no choice. He would have to settle down in the village, even if it meant marrying Gabriella. Sighing again, he went downstairs for supper where his father was already helping himself.

"Found out about the trip, didn't you?" His father asked, not waiting for an answer. "I trust you understand why we have to go."

"I know, Father," Frederick spoke silently. "Mother's been sick for quite some time, and we have very little to even support the farm. But father… Perhaps I should go on the trip, instead. Surely the servants can take care of her."

"That's precisely what I suggested, but I know your mother all too well. When she sets out to do something, she sticks with her decision no matter what. Might sound stubborn of her, but she's a woman who's not afraid to speak what's on her mind. That's why I love her."

Frederick said nothing, even though he still felt he should object to this. But there was no arguing with that logic, especially against his father.

"Don't worry, son," His father assured. "Once you settle down with the Avenant girl, the La'Belle's will be back on our feet in no time. That's what makes a La'Belle: We adapt, we survive, and we go through the turmoil no matter how great the peril."

"If you say so…" Frederick sighed.

* * *

As Jean-Luc packed the last of the supplies onto the carriage, Frederick's parents gave him a quick hug and kiss goodbye before going to join their valet. It was clear his family were in too much of a rush to notice how quiet their son had been. Seeing the parents bundled into their hired coach, nothing fancy but durable enough for the long journey ahead. Jean-Luc cracked his whip, ushering the family Clydesdale horse, Phillipe, to get the carriage rolling. Frederick waved off to his parents, till the carriage was out of sight.

He soon turned back to his darkened, empty house where several unhappy days alone would be waiting for him.

"Great…" Frederick sighed.


	3. Chapter 2

Much time had passed, the town had since been far behind in the distance. Sitting within the confines of a closed carriage, Peter and Olivia La'Belle sat close together as the road trip to Paris continued. Their valet, Jean-Luc, sat at the reigns urging the horse, Phillipe, to pull the carriage. As they rode on, Mr. La'Belle looked out the window with a look of concern.

The hour of night had come and he found they had traveled toward a large forest, blanketed in thick fog. At a glance, it's trees appeared grotesque and misshapen, without it's leaves the branches appeared to resemble claws. Feeling the chilly breeze brush against him, Jean-Luc clutched his coat tightly as he drove the carriage through the foreboding woods, his eyes open for danger and his breathing heavy.

"This can't be right," Jean-Luc muttered to himself. "What's happened to the road?"

"Jean-Luc!" Peter called from inside the coach. "It's gotten so dark all of a sudden. Where are we?"

"Must've missed the turn, sir."

Just then, as Jean-Luc spotted a fork in the fog-covered road and pulled the coach to a stop.

"Sir, you might want to look at this."

Peter poked his head out from the left side, before cautiously opening the door and stepping out. Closing the door behind him, he approached Jean-Luc, who hopped off the seat and eyed towards the two pathways.

"Hmm… This is a predicament," Peter observed, scratching his chin. "Not a mile marker in sight. Jean-Luc, what do you think?"

Jean-Luc turned from one road to another, trying to determine which path to cross. Finally, he motioned a finger to one road.

"I think we should go right, sir. The road looks a lot wider and safer to travel."

"Proceed then," La'Belle motioned, returning to the carriage. "And with haste. This place gives me the creeps."

"Yes, sir." Jean-Luc nodded.

As Jean-Luc made his way back on the carriage, he felt it shift and noticed Phillipe was motioning toward the left road. Gripping the reigns tightly, he pulled hard to the right, coaxing the horse to turn to that direction.

Inside the carriage, as Peter La'Belle settled into his seat, he turned to see his wife appeared to be shivering.

"You all right, Darling?" He asked.

"I never imagined how freezing it was here." Mrs. La'Belle replied, holding her arms together. "So cold all of a sudden."

"Agreed. But I'm sure it won't last long."

"Peter… I am worried about Frederick. I know we all agreed that the marriage was necessary to get our family back on its feet. But Freddie… Honestly, the closest he has to people skills is with children. He's still young and all."

"He is also a La'Belle, and we La'Belle's always thrive no matter how hard times get. Frederick's marriage is just the sort we need to turn our fortunes around, he won't let us down."

Mrs. La'Belle nodded with understanding, as her husband turned back to the window to watch the trees roll by. Feeling a tickle in her throat, the woman reached for a pocket handkerchief and lightly coughed into the fabric. Removing the cloth from her mouth, she looked at it with eyes widened. A tiny drop or two of blood could be found, but when she turned to the side she was relieved her husband didn't notice. She quickly hid the handkerchief back in her pocket and leaned back against her seat trying to get some sleep.

And then suddenly, just as the La'Belle's tried to get settled, they heard the cry of a wolf that caused their horse to stop in its tracks. He turned his head side-to-side with a nervous tension, as the howls got louder and louder. The La'Belle's, wondering why the coach suddenly stopped, also heard the cries.

Jean-Luc himself looked around nervously, the howls and the low growling sending a shiver up his spine. A rattling of leaves, like a creature running by, caught Jean-Luc's attention but he couldn't see due to the fog. He knew something wasn't right, just as Phillipe could sense it.

"Where have you taken us?" Jean-Luc spoke to himself.

Suddenly, a set of eyes appeared through the mist, followed by another and a dozen more. The growling got louder, causing Phillipe to back away in a panic. Inside the carriage, the La'Belle's could feel they were going backward and they started to get nervous, clinging close to each other. The carriage soon banged into a tree, causing the two to jerk forward.

Without warning, before they knew what was happening, a snarling beast slammed against the closed door of the carriage, bursting through the paneling and sticking its head into the cabin. It was a black-and-gray coated beast with razor sharp fangs and gleaming yellow eyes. A wolf. The wolf scratched and clawed, trying to force its way through the broken door, hungry for a bite of those two bundles of fresh, live meat huddled in terror in their seat.

As the mother tried to push back, Mr. La'Belle grabbed his cane and struck the beast furiously about the head, trying to force it back out. Although the wolf cried out in pain at the blows, its hunger overrode its pain as it continued snapping its jaws incredulously, finally grabbing the end of the cane and snapping it in half.

With no weapon left to fight back with, Mr. La'Belle backed up against the farthest end of the carriage, shielding his wife from this man-eater, about to come for them. And so it would have if it hadn't been for Jean-Luc, who had noticed the wolf clinging on to the side of the carriage, and drawn his flintlock pistol. The ensuing shot missed the wolf; instead, it blasted away the step the beast was perched on, causing it to lose its footing and falling off the carriage, taking with it the entire door panel still caught around its neck, much like some stuffed hunter's head trophy mounted on a wall-come alive. For the moment, they were safe.

"Jean-Luc!" shouted Peter. "Get us out of here!"

Horrified, Jean-Luc snapped the reigns, urging Philippe to run. More of the blood-thirsty beasts emerged from the trees all around, pursuing the carriage. The frightened horse trotted on at lightning speed, desperately trying to outrun the hungry animals. As her ran through the dark trees, dodging exposed branches, which were tearing up the carriage like a paper lantern as it passed by. Inside, the La'Belles huddled close together, silently praying they would escape the wolves and whatever other horrors this nightmare of a place had in store for them.

Just then, they felt a heavy bump which loosened Phillipe's harness, the horse continuing to run through the woods. The carriage came to a sudden stop, leaning on one end, as one of its wheels rolled away upon contact with a rock on the road. Barely catching himself, Jean-Luc made one last look through the trees only to see no trace of their horse. He climbed down to the ground and quickly made for the door, opening it to reveal Olivia and Peter huddled together in fright.

"Is everyone all right?" Jean-Luc asked.

"A little," Peter nodded, stepping out the carriage. "What happened?"

"We've lost Phillipe, sir. He's run away, to where… I don't know."

"That's upsetting. Let's hope he can make his way back home safely."

"There's more bad news, sir," Jean-Luc added. "We've lost one of the wheels; I doubt anyone will pass here anytime soon."

Peter put a hand to his forehead, knowing Jean-Luc was right. At this hour, no one from the village would dare venture in these woods, alone or in a group. And if those wolves were still on the prowl, stalking them, they won't last the night in their condition.

"Peter?" Olivia asked.

Mr. La'Belle turned to see his wife look out from inside the carriage, a look of concern on her face.

"What are we going to do, Peter?"

"Don't worry, we'll think of something."

Just then, growling from deep in the forest caused the trio to slowly turn to a group of trees. Jean-Luc's eyes widened as several wolves emerged from behind the trees. Their shadows loomed over the frightened villagers, knowing it would take one step before the wolves will advance to the coach.

"Oh no," Jean-Luc spoke worryingly. "They're back!"

"Hurry, darling!" Peter called, pulling Olivia out the carriage. "We're leaving. We're leaving, now!"

Keeping his wife close, La'Belle followed Jean-Luc away from the wreckage. The wolves, seeing the trio making a run for it, charged down the slopes pursuing their prey. Running through the cold mist, brushing branches out of their way, they ran as fast as they could as they could hear howling bellowing behind. As they ran, Olivia only glanced back for a few seconds when she saw that the wolves were drawing closer and closer.

Just then, the La'Belle's heard Jean-Luc scream and turn ahead to see he had slipped down a hill. They stopped to see Jean-Luc roll until he landed on solid ground, the hill not as big but still steep. Turning back to see the wolves were gaining ground, Peter carried his wife in his arms and slid down the hill along his feet, skidding to a halt inches from their valet. Peter lowered his wife to the ground to assist Jean-Luc, when Olivia saw something looming over them.

"Peter… Look!"

Facing Olivia's direction, the two men saw they stood before a huge steel gate with an Emblem containing a crest they could barely see in the moonlight. Growling caused the three to turn as the wolves stopped at the top of the slope, snarling their fangs. Desperate, Olivia and Peter made a dash for the gate as Jean-Luc tried to refill his pistol with a lead ball and gunpowder. But in his panic, he spilt more powder over the ground than in the gun itself.

"Help!" Olivia cried, holding the gate. "Someone please, let us in!"

"Jean-Luc, help me open this!" Peter shouted.

Turning back toward his master and back to the wolves, Jean-Luc stopped what he was doing and rushed to aid the La'Belle's. They tried desperately to pull the gate open, but it appeared to be stuck. Seeing their opportunity, the wolves rushed down the slope to snag their trapped victims.

"Urgh… It's locked!" Jean-Luc groaned.

"Wait a minute!" Peter thought. "Try the other way!"

Realizing the gate opened another way, they instead pushed the gate open. The gate seemed to be rusted, but it budged slightly as they continued to push. They pushed and groaned, groaned and pushed, until… The gate slid open and they made their way inside.

Jean-Luc saw the wolves coming and slammed the gate shut, locking the wolves outside. As Jean-Luc manually locked the gate, the wolves regrouped and lunged at the bars trying to push their way inside. The force pushed Jean-Luc back and he held the gate back with one boot, as the La'Belle's looked on.

Suddenly, they heard another howl, yet this one was louder compared to the wolves'. Whatever creature it was, its cries caused the wolves to stop and look up, as if gazing towards the sky. Whimpering in fear, they made a run back into the woods while the humans stared with curiosity as to what drove them off. And yet, to their relief, the wolves were long gone from sight as they took a moment to recover from their nasty encounter. They turned to where they thought the howl came from and the sight made their eyes widen.

"Dear God," Peter gasped.

Before their very eyes, across a long stone bridge, there stood an enormous castle. It's towers stretched towards the dark clouds looming over the sky. A brief bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, making the large structure ever more terrifying. Never before had either of them seen such a castle before nor imagined such a place existed. But this was no illusion, they very sight of this castle amazed the three.

"What on Earth is this place?" Olivia asked aloud.

"I'm not sure," Peter answered. "But if perhaps someone lives here, they could help us."

"I wouldn't be too sure, sir," Jean-Luc said, concerned. "Something about this place doesn't sit right with me. It doesn't even look as if anyone's been here for years."

"You may be on to something, Jean-Luc. Even so, at least we'll have someplace to rest for the night. Better than taking our chances with the wolves."

"Then let's not stand here, jabbering," Olivia suggested. "Let's see if anyone's home."

Nodding, Peter takes Olivia by her hand and lead across the bridge towards the castle. Jean-Luc trailed close behind, peering over the side with wide eyes seeing how high the bridge was over the bottomless floor. Once they reached the door, Peter La'Belle proceeded to knock on the door, banging it three times. For a few moments, they awaited for a response yet all they received was silence.

"Hmm, this castle must be abandoned," Peter assumed.

As Peter and the others turned to make for the gate, they heard a slow creaking noise. They turned around and saw the door opening, the massive door opening up revealing only darkness. Keeping Olivia close, La'Belle slowly entered the castle as Jean-Luc waited to see if it was clear to enter. To their surprise, no one stood awaiting their arrival in the entry hall.

"Sir?" Jean-Luc asked. "If this place is abandoned, who opened the door?"

"It couldn't have opened by itself," Olivia said softly, shivering against her husband's arm. "Could it?"

"Nonsense," Peter replied. "There's always a logical explanation for these things."

"Like what?" Olivia asked, nervously.

"I don't know," Peter answered. "But it's getting cold out and you're sick enough as it is."

"He makes a valid point, ma'am," Jean-Luc replied.

Peter entered into the vast entrance hall first, as Olivia and Jean-Luc followed. Their footsteps pad along the hard floor, which appeared to be some form of tile. Barely able to see the room, they could at least tell from a glance it had to be the biggest room in the entire castle. Two rows of pillars were lined connecting to the ceiling hanging over them. A long violet rug was laid out along the floor, stretching towards a staircase that split in two directions. It was a rather foreboding sight, particularly the statues of gargoyles and wicked beasts staring at them with jaws bared toward them.

"Hello?" Peter called, his voice echoing. "Hello? Anyone home?"

"We don't mean to intrude," Olivia called, her voice echoing. "But we've lost our horse, our carriage is down, and we can't find our way back. We only ask for a place to stay till morning. If you please."

At first, an answer there came none. Then suddenly, La'Belle's and their valet were startled by a pair of footsteps approaching. A light was lit heading towards them, but even that wasn't enough to obtain a good view of the occupant.

This person, apparently a servant or a concierge of this castle it seemed, stopped a short distance from the door, for some odd reason keeping a good distance from the La'Belle's. The faint, blurry candlelight, Peter thought, was making the man seem rather odd in appearance, every inch of his body, both skin and clothes, a shade of wood-like color, like a wooden statue. On the other hand, it probably just was the dim light, as well as his own fatigue effecting his vision, Mr. La'Belle thought.

"May I help you, sir?" He spoke to Mr. La'Belle.

"Oh," said Peter in a surprised tone. "Please forgive us. We almost believed no one was home. Let me introduce ourselves, I'm Doctor Peter La'Belle, this is my wife, Olivia, and our Valet, Jean-Luc."

"My name is Durwood, I'm the butler of this estate," He introduced himself, with a slight bow. "Bit of nasty weather, I assume."

"Oh, yes, very nasty indeed. Again, please excuse our intrusion, but we were nearly eaten by the wolves out in the woods."

"Ah yes, those nasty mongrels will eat anything they come upon at this hour. But enough of that, you three look as if you're chilled to the bone. If you would kindly follow me, I shall show you to the fireplace in the Den."

"Oh, thank you," Jean-Luc said.

The butler, Durwood, slowly led the three visitors through the hall toward the Den section of the castle. Little did anyone realize, a shadowy figure watched them from the balcony of the upper castle level. It stared silently as if studying the three strangers before walking to the side, it's steps making no sound.

"Excuse me, Durwood, was it?" asked Olivia. "Who owns this castle?"

"A very wealthy family owns this castle, madam," Durwood replied. "It has been in the family from generation after generation. The Mistress currently owns the household at the moment."

"Where is this 'Mistress' of yours?" Jean-Luc asked.

"She's somewhere around the castle, I'm sure. Though I should point out she may not take lightly to having visitors in the house. Mind you, she's a charming young maiden, it's just been a long time since we had anyone come to visit. But she'll be along when she makes herself available."

Soon enough, Durwood pushed the doors open leading the guests to the den. It was an open room with lavish furniture and shag carpets. Above the fireplace there sat a clock sitting along the rafter. As the trio looked around the room, noting the oak wood tables, the chairs with animal skins, and a small bookcase positioned near a stained glass window, the butler laid the candelabra on a small table near a large chair. Not once did he turn towards the fire, so they couldn't see his face.

"Do make yourselves comfortable," Durwood instructed. "I shall return momentarily with refreshments. Anything in particular?"

"May I have some tea?" Olivia asked politely.

"At once, madam."

Turning towards the doors, the butler made his exit, leaving the three travelers alone in the Den. Mr. La'Belle sat his wife to the chair closest to the fireplace to keep her warm, as Jean-Luc took a look around the room while waiting for the butler's return.

"What a night this has been," Jean-Luc replied.

"Oh yes, it must've been dreadful," A voice spoke. "I do hope you find the room to your liking."

"It's very homely, thank you…" Jean-Luc stopped in mid-sentence. "Wait…"

"W-W-Who said that?" Peter asked.

Looking around, Peter grabbed the candelabra to search his way around the room. The others look around nervously, realizing they are not the only ones in the room. Turning towards the darkened portion in the back, he walked toward there to see if there was another servant standing in the shadows. But looking around, there seemed to be no one else in the room.

Just then, Peter felt a tap against his head and looked up with wide eyes. For there before Peter La'Belle, it was the candelabra… Only this time it appeared to be staring at him with eyes and a smile.

"'Ello," The candelabra greeted.

Peter yelped with surprise, releasing the candelabra as it fell to the floor. It landed with a thud and uttered a grunt of pain, yet it was not a big fall. Peter's eyes widened, not only because it actually spoke but the candelabra itself was actually picking itself up recovering from the fall.

"What trickery is this?" Peter wondered.

Jean-Luc turned around to face Peter.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

"Jean-Luc, either I'm losing my marbles, or that candelabra just…spoke."

"Well, now you've done it, Lumiere," Another voice spoke. "Just couldn't keep quiet, could you?"

Olivia looked up above the fireplace and gasped. For hopping off the ledge, the clock also sprung to life with a set of eyes and a mouth on the clock face. Even the hands of the clock were positioned to imitate a mustache of sorts.

"Peter, the clock is talking."

"Alright, so I'm not losing my marbles," Peter said to himself.

"If you have much sense at the least, then you best be marching out this house at once," The clock demanded. "The Mistress can't bear to see a band of looters coming into the house to pillage what they please."

"Oh, Cogsworth, look at them!" said the candelabra whose name was Lumiere. "Do they honestly look like the looting type to you? These are merely humble travelers who've lost their way. If they were the looting sort, then Durwood wouldn't have invited them in."

"Of course, take Durwood's side, why don't you? After all, I'm only the Head of the Household and thusly responsible for the well being of the estate and the Mistress' well-being!"

As the two inanimate objects bickered toward one another, Olivia and Peter turned to each other wondering what they heck they were even watching. They turned toward their valet, Jean-Luc, who looked just as awestruck as his masters and could only respond with a silent shrug. Something amiss was taking place in this castle, that they knew for sure.

"Excuse us, I hate to interrupt," Peter butted in. "But does Durwood know about all this?"

"Well, I guess it would be kind of hard not to notice, sir, given that we all share the same…condition." It was only then that Peter La'Belle finally saw the butler in plain view as he stepped back into the den, bringing the tea. The light of the fireplace fell across his face, making the blood drain from poor Peter's face in amazement. Though he wore small spectacles and had long grayish hair like a butler, his complexion revealed a hard, wooden surface. The butler who had been offering his service was in fact a living, breathing statue.

"Your tea, madam. Hope you like honey, Mrs. Doe makes the finest batch of tea in all of France."

Olivia stared silently in response, trying to take in what was standing before her and who their servant was the whole time. But she slowly took the tea from off the tray in Durwood's hand, at least trying to be polite.

"Thank you," Olivia spoke silently, with a nod.

"Durwood, what gave you the right to invite a trio of strangers into the Mistress' home?" Cogsworth spoke. "If she ever heard about this-"

"Oh, she already knows," Durwood replied. "Or else I wouldn't have let them in," Cogsworth's clock-hand moustache twitched incredulously.

"Does nobody tell me these things anymore?" Cogsworth cries, throwing his arms up. "I wouldn't be surprised if you did this behind Manx's back while we're at it."

Before the La'Belle's could find their voices again, standing as if nailed to the floor at the sight of all these walking and talking animated ornaments that were the household the staff of this mysterious castle, there was a loud knock on the Den door.

"I'll get it," said Lumiere sheepishly, a trickle of sweat - or rather molten candle wax - rolling down his face as he hopped to the door and opened it ajar. "Oh, good evening, Mistress. You're looking wonderful tonight." A stern, yet non-threatening feminine voice answered him.

"Thank you, Lumiere. And how are my guests fairing?"

"Very well, considering, Mademoiselle," replied Lumiere, still holding the edge of the door ajar, as if keeping it from swinging open. In spite of his amazement with the enchanted servants-gimmicks, Mr. La Belle was starting to feel rather suspicious. Why should the owner of this castle hide herself like this? Why were all the servants looking so uneasy? What was going on here?

"Good. Dim the lights please." The animated candelabra hurried over to the fireplace and placed a copper blind in front of the hearth, blacking out the light.

"Lights have been dimmed, Mistress. You may enter now."

Dead slowly, much like a coffin lid opening up, the door to the den swung open, revealing the 'Mistress' at last. The La'Belle's' first impression of their host, barely visible in the dim light, was that of an amazingly tall woman, with a sweeping purple hooded cloak wrapped around her shoulders, the hood itself pulled up over her head, obscuring her face. Mr. La'Belle could make out a pair of deep blue eyes beneath the shadow of the hood, but nothing else. Why was this woman so intent on keeping her face hidden like that?

"Eh, my apologies for intruding in the middle of the night, Your Excellency," he said, to the hooded woman. The owner of such a lavish estate had to be a figure of some noble title, perhaps a Duchess or a Baroness, "We had an accident out in the woods and got chased by wolves. My wife is sick and I hoped you could accommodate us for the night…" Beside him, Mrs. La'Belle tried to say something, probably that she was fine, but a fit of coughing made her choke on her own words. Outside the door, the unseen mistress spoke again.

"I am well aware of you plight, Monsieur La'Belle, seeing that it was I who sent those savage brutes running before they could get you. You're real fortunate to be alive." Peter was wondering just how this mistress - which, he figured by her voice, had to be a young woman, no older than Frederick - could have made that animalistic howl that had scared off the wolves down by the gates, he thought it would be too rude to ask.

"I sent my servants along to attend to you, to make sure you were all right," the mistress went on, "My manservant has already sent for the castle physician, to check you over, Madame La'Belle."

"I don't believe we asked, Mistress," Mr. La'Belle pointed out. "To whom do we owe the pleasure for this hospitality?"

"The Mistress of this castle, of course," replied the hooded woman, without giving Mr. LaBelle a name, if she had one at all, "Heiress of the La'Beauté estate." Mr. La'Belle could vaguely remember hearing about the La'Beauté's from way back, a once-wealthy and well-known family, which had mysteriously vanished from polite society some ten years ago, without anyone knowing why.

"Why help us, Your Excellency?" he asked.

"I don't deny that I don't usually trust admitting strangers into my home," the Mistress said, "But I couldn't just sit back and watch those wolves devour you on my own threshold."

"Good thing you did," Mr. La'Belle replied. "We've never seen wolves that would attack carriages before."

"They wouldn't," The Mistress admitted. "Not without reason at least."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. La'Belle asked, curiously.

"It's nothing to worry about," The Mistress simply said. "Nothing at all."

The statement left the La'Belle's with uncertainty, as if the Mistress knew something that they didn't. But judging from her tone, it would appear she merely wanted to end the discussion and not go any further. So they found themselves with very little to go on and even more questions than answers.

"My servants have already prepared accommodations for all of you," The Mistress continued. "The Castle Physician is waiting to provide treatment for Madame La'Belle. The Master of the Wardroom and the Chief Steward also have dry clothes laid out for you. Tomorrow, if that's convenient, Lumiere and Cogsworth can give you a full tour of the castle…"

"Tour of the castle, Your Excellency?" asked Mr. La'Belle, getting suspicious again, "That's most gracious of you, but we only need to stay the night, until my wife feels well enough to make the journey home…"

"I'm afraid in your wife's condition, it will take more than a night to have her properly treated," The Mistress informed. "And even if she were well enough, the woods are far too dangerous to traverse. As you've seen, the roads are not even safe in the daylight."

Mr. La'Belle thought hard for a moment; there was something very suspicious about their mysterious host and her staff of talking and moving household objects. Although she didn't seem to mean them any harm, not to mention having saved them from those wolves, he felt almost as if she somehow intended to keep them here and just wasn't telling them yet. And why wouldn't she show her face to them? Was she just eccentrically shy? Or could she be a leper living under quarantine? Perhaps the entire La'Beauté had perished from plague? Could they be in danger and didn't realize?

Banishing those ridiculous thoughts from his mind, he nodded gratefully at the Mistress, "Thank you, Your Excellency. We're all grateful for your hospitality."

"The pleasure is all mine, Monsieur La'Belle."


	4. Chapter 3

Within the mysterious castle, late in the evening, Peter and his wife, Olivia, were huddled together in an enormous master bedroom to sleep in. Jean-Luc, on the other hand, was given a lesser, yet still 'grand' bedroom of his own just down the hall from his masters'. In that time, it was a quiet evening for the husband and wife as they sat in the same bed. But neither one were in the mood to sleep, except their thoughts raced not only about the mysterious owner of the castle but a topic that's been clawing Peter's mind since they found this place.

"It was very nice of her to give us this bedroom," Olivia stated.

"Yes, but… Something just isn't right," Peter answered.

"How so, dear? What's troubling you?"

"The owner of this castle, this… 'Mistress'… She said she was heiress to the La'Beauté Estate. But… That doesn't make any sense. All the members of the La'Beauté royal family disappeared almost ten years ago."

"Oh yes… Hmmph," Olivia answered, stifling a cough. "I recall that story. They were once the most prominent family in this entire country. No one knows how they disappeared or what caused it, but then they lived so far from the nearest town."

"Could this really be their castle?"

"It's hard to say, but it is possible it must be. Else it could be just a coincidence to have stumbled upon this place so deep in the forest."

"But if that woman IS a member of the La'Beauté family, then why has she kept herself secluded in this place for so long? And what of the talking objects around the estate? You got to admit that's a little…"

"Strange?" They both answered, to their surprise.

"Yes… I was just thinking that," Peter concluded. "Once more, why didn't she want her face to be seen?"

"Who knows? Perhaps the trauma of losing her entire family must've been so great, she can't bear to show her face to anyone. It must've been so difficult for her."

"That still doesn't explain the talking objects though."

Just then, a slight knock at the bedroom door drew their attention moments before the wife could answer. Peter stood up from the bed and approached the doorway, with one arm reaching for the doorknob. Opening the door, Peter saw that it was Jean-Luc and he quietly allowed him to enter the room.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir," Jean-Luc said, quietly, "But I just couldn't sleep."

"That's alright," said Peter, "Neither could we."

"You're thinking about her, too, aren't you?"

"Yes, and quite frankly, we're not sure what to make of her. On one hand, she was generous enough to provide comfortable rooms to rest for the night. But on the other, we know so very little about her that we don't know if we can simply take her word that she's a La'Beauté."

"If you ask me, sir, I think she's some kind of sorceress!"

"Sorcery? Good heavens, Jean-Luc, such a statement defies logic in every way."

"But how else would you explain the talking objects?" Olivia pointed out. "It may be hard to believe, Peter, but after everything we've seen tonight, I'm inclined to believe anything."

"And like you said, sir, who's to say she's even a member of the La'Beauté family?" Jean-Luc suggested, "Maybe she's the reason they disappeared, that perhaps she used sorcery to take over the estate and the consequences must've been disastrous for the family."

"Jean-Luc, surely you're not suggesting that she..."

"I'm suggesting that the best thing for us is to leave while we still can. That we go back on the road, leave this place behind us, and never speak of it. It's not like anyone's going to believe us if we tell about it."

"But we can't just leave," said Peter. "Olivia's still sick and for all we know, those wolves are still out there, waiting for us!"

"This estate must have a map and some torches," Jean-Luc noted. "If we can grab them, it can point us to the closest town and the light of the fire should keep the wolves at bay. Things won't get any better even if we stay here."

Peter sighed. "I don't know…"

"Peter…" Olivia slowly rose, letting out a cough. "Jean-Luc is right about one thing. I'm not going to get any better if we stay here. Getting to that town is the only chance of getting that medicine."

Peter pondered the situation, weighing his options as his eyes faced his wife. As much as he hated to admit it, deep down he knew Olivia was right. After all, this was his wife, the one person who could make him happy, who brought Frederick into their lives, and gave him courage when he had none. And if he lost her, he wouldn't know what to do. A moment of silence, then he nodded his head.

"Okay…" Peter spoke, barely audible. "Get your things. If we leave, we leave now."

* * *

Several minutes of packing later, Peter and Olivia slowly emerged from their bedroom doorway dressed to leave. Olivia leaned against her husband for support, as she was still rather weak due to her condition. So with that, Jean-Luc carried most of their possession between both his arms following the pair close behind. They strolled through the hall cautiously toward the stairs, all the while searching for a map and some torches.

"Sir, I suggest we hurry," whispered Jean-Luc. "The walls could have ears."

"Under any circumstances, I'd tell you that it's just your nerves," Peter explained, quietly. "But after what we've seen tonight, I wouldn't be surprised."

Soon enough, the three approached the stairs, slowly making their way down with each step. Checking each corner for any wandering eyes, they tread carefully to avoid any creaking or any sound that could give away their position. Otherwise, the castle was deathly still with barely a sound except their silent breathing. Halfway down the staircase, they could see the large doorways their only means of escape. Freedom was just a few steps down, or so they hoped.

Suddenly, as Olivia turned to the side, something caught her eye which at first she believed to be the trick of the moonlight against the windows. But there was no mistake, she not only imagined she saw movement but she thought she heard footsteps coming from the upper hall.

"Peter…" Olivia whispered softly. "Do you hear that?"

"What is it?" Peter asked quietly.

"Something's coming our way; I think they know we're leaving."

Peter turned toward Olivia's direction, if only to ease her concern if she was only seeing things. But just as he was about to say it was in her head, Peter's eyes caught a shadow on the hallway getting bigger as it got closer and closer toward the stairs. They paused and held their breath, praying they wouldn't be caught. Whatever was casting its shadow, they could tell by the silhouette it was inhuman, almost cat-like. They caught traces of its pointed ears, it's paws for hands, and barely seen but slight traces of whiskers. Then it paused for a moment, as if suddenly remembering something, and turned around it's shadow fading in the darkness. A close call for the La'Belle's and Jean-Luc, but nonetheless a relief.

"Change of plans," Peter began. "Forget the map and torches. We'll camp out by the gates till morning. The road should be safe by sunrise and we'll leave before the others wake up."

"Good idea," Jean-Luc nodded.

Olivia merely nodded in agreement, all while trying to stifle a few coughs from escaping. All in agreement, the three continued their trek toward the bottom of the stairs. No sooner did they make their way toward the front lobby did they make their way toward the door as quickly, yet quietly as possible. But barely could they maintain their steps from echoing off the smooth tile floors pattering against their shoes.

"Alright," said Peter as he gripped the door handle. "This is it, everyone. Now, on the count of three, I open the door and we all make a run for the gate."

"But Mrs. La'Belle won't be able to run in her condition," Jean-Luc pointed out.

"I may be ill, but I'm not weak," Olivia responded. "I'll manage."

"Alright," Peter nodded. "All together now… One. Two. Three!"

Peter twisted the door knob and pulled the massive door with all his might, grunting in effort. Jean-Luc had Olivia leaning against him for support and the two bolted their way out the door as Peter held it open. Once they were both outside, Peter ran behind the pair as they all dashed as fast as they could across the bridge towards the iron gates.

CRASH! A bolt of lightning flashed in the air and the three suddenly skid to a halt. In the dark, they failed to notice the row of armored guards standing in front of the gate. But in the brief period of light, not a trace of eyes nor facial features were seen through the visors or eyeholes within their helmets. And yet they stood, long weapons in hand approaching the three as their armored feet clanked across the bridge.

"Oh no!" cried Olivia.

"How did they know?!" Jean-Luc asked.

"Never mind that!" Peter shouted. "Move back!"

The three quickly turned towards the castle, but what they saw next stopped them from going any further. There, standing just a few feet away was none other than the mysterious hooded mistress. Her cloak flowed against the wind that drifted across the bridge and while they couldn't see her face, the three people could sense the intensity from the glance hidden beneath her hood.

"I feared you would try to run away," She spoke. "So I had my guards stand watch in case you tried to make for the gate."

"Please, Mistress," begged Olivia. "It's not that we're ungrateful for your hospitality, but you can't just keep us here against our will!"

"I'm sorry, Madame La'Belle, but that is a risk I cannot afford to take. You three have seen too much, things that no human can comprehend nor understand."

"You can trust us!" said Peter. "We won't tell a soul, we swear!"

"Besides," added Jean-Luc. "I don't think anyone would believe us anyway."

"Just let us go!" cried Olivia.

"I want to believe you three, I truly do," The mistress spoke. "But the farther word of this spreads, the chances of very bad people who seek to harm what they don't understand increase. Besides, if you knew what more is at work here, you'll never forget it."

"Then what more is there?" Peter asked, cautiously approaching. "If it's a manner of poor health, physical or mental, perhaps I can help. I am a Doctor, I have years of experience in my field."

"I'm sorry, Monsieur… But no treatment in the entire world can fix… this!"

Forcefully, if not reluctantly, the mistress threw off her hood with a swift motion of her head. And when her identity was revealed, as another flash of lighting struck against the sky, they gasped at the shocking sight of their mistress. A face, the like of which, they have never seen nor comprehend it's structure.

In an act of panic, Jean-Luc pulled out his flintlock pistol and aimed it at the Mistress. Seeing this, Mr. and Mrs. La'Belle yelled out and quickly pulled Jean-Luc's arm up, causing the servant to fire the pistol in mid-air. The blast shocked the mistress, causing her to bend down as if it put her in distress covering her head with her hands. Or rather, they would be except it was all fur covered in claws instead of nails. Her eyes gazed towards the three startled humans.

"Now you see why I can't allow you to leave. The truth must not be shown to anyone and the magic of this place must be concealed. I pray one day you can forgive me." She then turned to the suits of armor. "Take them to the dungeon."

The suits nodded in unison before they faced the La'Belle's and their servant, surrounding all three to prevent their escape. And yet they stood frightened beyond belief, Jean-Luc's now empty pistol slipping from his grasp and clattering onto the bridge. The suits drew closer and closer, as their shadows covered the still humans preparing to seal their fate as another bolt of lightning blasted in the sky.


End file.
